The ride from Reno to St. Louis was extremely uneventful, which was a fact that quite frankly bothered Phil to no end. Tragoedia obviously had some idea that there was a guy heading East that was gunning for him. Conspicuous Sam had let that much slip. So why hadn’t he seen any more of the monster’s goon squad roaming around? Dimitri not showing up, he could understand. The amount of time the possessed boy lost around Reno likely put him on indefinite catch-up duty, and Phil’s train hadn’t run into any issues after it left the gambling town. That meant no windows of opportunity for Dimitri to make up for that lost time. Combine that with Dimitri’s unknown physical condition, and the chance of seeing him until New York was pretty low.

Yet, the fact that Phil hadn’t seen anyone else roaming the train, or slipping onto the mighty machine during its brief stops at a handful of towns to load or unload various items, was something he couldn’t quite understand. Still, Phil accepted the break for what it was: a chance to feel the wind in his hair, to watch some nostalgic scenery he hadn’t seen since his death back on Earth, and to swap jokes with Lumina. It helped with the boredom, at least. And kept him from brooding over Dimitri or the gradually increasing body count he was racking up ever since the start of the school year.

“Ay Lumina.” Phil peered over the side of the slowing train car as the St. Louis train yard gradually came into view.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s say you walked into a store that sells cheese, yeah?”

“Okay. I’m hypothetically walking into a store that sells cheese. What next?”

“And the dude at the counter is a real friendly fella. You know, jolly, boisterous, the type of guy everyone wants to be around.”

"Hello, hypothetical friendly guy!" Lumina gently waved into the air.

“So, he sees you walk in, right?” Phil tensed his arms and leaped over the side of the coal car once the train had slowed enough so he wouldn’t break a bone when hitting the ground. “A happy fella like that, what do you think he would say?”

Lumina floated gently down next to Phil once he had rolled to a stop on the ground. The two of them immediately took off in a dead sprint towards the outskirts of the train yard and to the dilapidated row of abandoned office buildings nearby.

“I don’t know. What would he say?”

Phil let a shit-eating grin slide across his face. “I’m cheesed to meet you! I hope you’re having a gouda day! I know I am, and you’d chedda believe it!”

Lumina winced dramatically and slapped Phil on the back of the head in response to the painful barrage of cheese puns.

“Great… I think my ears are bleeding. What now, Phil? Isn’t this the end of the line for whatever train we were on?”

Phil gave a brisk nod. “Yup. Luckily, I kept my eyes peeled when we were running out of the train yard. Looks like CSX has trains running out of it. I saw at least two with their logo on the side. So, the game plan is to take that line from here, to Indianapolis, then to Cleveland, which takes us to Buffalo, and then the line curves around to drop us off right in New York City. I just need to find the train office so I can mark down the departure times. And speak of the devil…” Phil stopped clean in his tracks and swiveled his head to the side to stare at the office for the train yard. While it did not appear to be open at the moment, there were departure times listed on a complicated-looking board right outside the office.

"Hm. One o'clock in the morning. That's gonna suck. No point making camp, then.”

“So, what now? Should we hide just in case Tragoedia’s men are searching the town for you?” Lumina questioned while looking around at the clusters of broken-down buildings surrounding the pair with mild interest.

Phil shrugged. “I’ll just hang around. I’m kinda hoping there aren’t any more Conspicuous Sams looking for me. I really, really don’t like having to shadow duel people. But, whatever happens, happens. Maybe they’ve finally realized that I’m the big fucking fish in this tiny-ass GX pond. At this point, I’m just spamming GOAT-style Chaos Warrior. They don’t have a fucking snowball’s chance in hell unless I brick hard enough to build a house. So maybe they’ve realized that.” He repeated.

Lumina silently patted Phil on the back as he let his rather bloodthirsty words fade into the late-morning sky.

“Hey, Phil."

“Yeah?” Phil replied with a sigh.

“What do you call an alligator in a vest?”

Phil cracked a smile. He had an idea of where this was going. “I don’t know. What do you call an alligator in a vest?”

Lumina fell silent for a few seconds, all the better to let the punchline hit even harder. A smirk struggled to cross her face, but she brutally suppressed it in favor of saying her next words with a completely straight face.

“An investigator.”

Phil laughed uproariously, causing Lumina to mentally pump her fist in celebration as her friend was successfully distracted from his gloomy thoughts once more.

"That's a good one, Lumina. I'll remember it." Phil reined in his laughter and walked over to a nearby payphone. It was a dirty, disgusting thing, but it still appeared to work. He slotted in a few of the quarters taken after his victory in Reno.

“Wow. You actually have someone to call?”

Phil nodded. “Banner. Since I have some time to burn and some quarters to spare, I want to ask him about that weird-ass coin.”

The dial tone beeped for a few seconds until the phone on the other end was picked up.

“This is Lyman Banner. May I know who I am speaking with?” The voice on the other end spoke with a catlike purr to its words.

“Yo Banner.” Phil cleared his throat and pulled the strange golden coin out of his pocket. “I landed myself in a shadow duel against some weird gambler guy. I iced him, but he left behind this weird coin. A six-sided die, too. Both of them look gold but aren’t heavy enough to be gold. They also seem to move slightly when I hold them.”

Banner’s voice sharpened with interest. “Curious indeed. Are there any images on either side of the coin?”

Phil nodded, even though Banner couldn’t see him. “Yeah. A crying woman on one side, a decapitated dog’s head on the other. Too weird to be any sort of real currency.”

“I see… what you describe makes me believe it may be a soul coin. It’s another method of storing a soul, one quite similar to placing it within a card. The main difference is that the coin could be easily used for various magical purposes where a card would be unwieldy or out of place. Since you took it from a gambler, I imagine that person was using it for more reliable coin flips. Perhaps some basic divinations, using the heads and tails for simple yes or no questions. As for the color and size, well, perhaps the soul that the gambler stored in the coin had some amount of natural magic to it, enough to change its color as the magic leaked out over time. Otherwise, it would have looked more like an ordinary coin. All-in-all, nothing reality-breaking, but the ability to somewhat influence coin flips would be useful for a gambler.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Phil silently absorbed the information before replying. “That guy still failed a bunch of coin flips.”

“Right.” Banner acknowledged. “As he would have, given enough tries. The reliability of the tosses would increase according to the power of the soul. For example, the soul of a particularly strong duelist combined with a high-caliber mage doing the coin flips would probably increase the probability of a 50/50 coin toss to a 70/30 chance in favor of the result the mage wished for.”

“Any chance I can release the soul in the coin?” Phil questioned immediately after.

Banner fell silent for a few seconds as he thought about the query.

“It is difficult to say for sure without any knowledge of the ritual the gambler used to seal the soul. Often times defeating the enemy mage in a duel would do the trick. Since you already did that and nothing happened, you could try breaking the coin. Worst case scenario, well, their soul simply re-enters the cycle of reincarnation. Best case, the person’s soul goes right back to their body and they get the joy of experiencing lengthy physical therapy to regain their functions.”

Phil flipped the coin around his fingers as he thought about it.

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. What about possession? Are you familiar with that?”

"Somewhat," Banner replied in a serious tone. “It’s a dangerous subject. In a nutshell, possession happens when a duel spirit or a dead soul with enough magic hitches a ride on a living creature’s body. If the duel spirit or soul is benign, then nothing else happens past that. Perhaps some whispered advice in the ears from time to time. But, if the opposite is true, a malevolent duel spirit or soul could try and overpower the will of said living creature. It would start small at first. A twitch of the finger or a movement of the arm when the host does not intend to. Usually, the motor functions are next. Taking control of the legs leads to forcing the host to move around constantly, often into dangerous situations that have the side effect of exhausting the poor host. A weary host has a much more difficult time keeping up the willpower to resist. After that, it's just a matter of time until the possession is complete and the original host's personality is wiped clean. They would be nothing but a meat suit after that. Why do you feel curiosity over a subject as tragic as this?”

Phil closed his eyes and dragged his palm across his face with a sigh.

“An acquaintance of mine got possessed by a seriously nasty duel spirit. He seemed pretty far gone last time I ran into him, but I was still hoping I could save him somehow.”

Banner meowed in thought. “How physically damaged was his body? Was it your acquaintance speaking, or did it sound like the duel spirit?”

“Pretty damaged. We dueled, but before it ended, we were separated. He got thrown off the top of a speeding train, so I’d assume his body’s in even worse shape now. The duel spirit mostly spoke, but at one point he seemed to somewhat wake up. He started asking if it was all a dream.”

“I see.” Banner replied solemnly. “It's extremely unlikely that you can save him at this point. From what you describe, it sounds like the possession is nearly complete. Any physical or spiritual damage brought by a shadow duel or by being thrown off a train would only serve to accelerate the process by weakening the host to the point they cannot fight back. You could still try catching your acquaintance in a duel and pointing the penalty game straight toward the duel spirit, but I can’t say for sure if that would work, considering how far along the possession is. At this point, though I loathe saying this, a mercy-killing may be best. For both parties.”

“Understood.” Phil said with heavy tones. “Thanks, Banner. I’ll see you around.”

“Ta.”

Phil hung up the phone and turned to Lumina with a sigh. All signs of his good cheer brought about by her puns had utterly disappeared in the face of Banner’s words.

“Fucking son of a bitch.” Phil abruptly swore as he turned the golden coin in his fingers over and over again. “If I had thought to point the penalty game right at Dark Necrofear that first time on the roof, the problem would have been solved just like that!” He snapped his fingers to emphasize his point. “But fuck me, I didn’t even know that was possible. How could I have known?”

Phil’s voice rose as the coin danced across his fingers, increasing in speed with every word until the object was a flashing blur of motion.

“Damnit!” Phil shouted the word into the empty air and fell silent. Lumina watched his outburst fade into nothing with raised eyebrows. “Nothing but shoulda’s, woulda’s, and coulda’s.” He smiled thinly toward Lumina. “Come on. Let’s try and get this coin destroyed while we wait on the train. Maybe I can avoid fucking up on that at least.”

“Freeing the soul in that coin would certainly be a good deed.” Lumina patted his shoulder consolingly. “And if we cannot find a way to physically destroy it, maybe D.3.S. Frog could lend a hand.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Hey hey hey, New York City!” A man’s confident voice filled the interior of the room. The lights up above were dark, but the room itself was lit up as bright as day from the blue light emanating from the multitude of security monitors that decorated the walls from floor to ceiling. The man cleared his throat and brought his mouth closer to the microphone. His hands danced across the small wooden desk that, aside from his extremely cushy chair, was the only furniture inside of the room. Cards, dice, a crystal ball, and a map of America with several darts sticking out of it filled the desk, cluttering it so badly that the wooden surface was completely obscured.

“Hey hey hey.” The man said again in an impossibly smooth voice. Hearing it was like molten butter was dripping out of his mouth and into the ears of anyone listening. “It’s that time of the day. Listeners, why don’t cha’ listen up real close? Do we have any listeners in the St. Louis area, yeah? I do repeat, do we have any listeners in the St. Louis area? If any of ya'll are, gimme a quick shout-out since I've got some news to drop on these here airways. I've got a nice little drop-in with the future, boys! Yeah, that’s right. I have had a vis-ion! I said! I! Have! Had! A! Vision! Some weird-ass Japanese kid with a plan to mess up our little scheme has just touched down in the big St. L. He’s gonna be there ‘till the early morning. If any of my road-warrior listeners feels like ruining his day, well, wouldn’t that be just peachy! Hell, I’d say anyone who succeeds should give the station a call so they can redeem a day of hanging out with yours truly, Mr. Big.”

The man switched off the mic with a cocky flick of his fingers and swiveled his chair around to face the door.

"You have nothing more narrowed down than the St. Louis area? Some psychic you are.” A tall woman standing in front of the open area asked in disappointment.

The man laughed and shrugged. Clearly, he was not particularly concerned about the situation. “Hey, what can I say, Nan? That’s what the big boss pays you for. Narrowing down the search area should be right up your alley. Besides, the spiritual interference with this guy is off the freaking walls. Either he’s a psychic too, or some big-shot duel spirit’s watching his back, one with enough mojo to stop me dead in my tracks. Either way, my brain starts getting all heated up when I try to get a close look at his wavelengths. Like someone’s shoved it into an oven and set it to flambé. Cooked brains don’t sound very fun to me, so I can’t narrow it down further than what city he’s probably in.”

Nan turned around and pulled a thick, black cloth around her face. As soon as her skin was covered, it was like the woman was hardly there. Her pitch-black clothes blended nearly perfectly into the shadows, forcing the man to squint his eyes to focus on her.

“There’s little benefit towards rushing to St. Louis. The kid’ll be gone by the time I would arrive in the city, even with a plane. What do your visions say about New York City, Big Shoe?”

The oddly named Big Shoe let loose a cheesy smile and ran his fingers through his matted, disgusting hair. Tiny ‘clinks’ and ‘clanks’ filled the room as his fingers ran into the multitude of golden rings weaved through the hair. Despite his name, the man’s shoes were smaller than average.

“Hey hey hey, I’d say that would be fortuitous indeed. With that crazy bitch Dark Necrofear closing in fast on the boy, and you waiting for him in the city, we’d turn him into a nice toasty sandwich. One of those with the fancy little umbrellas stuck on top. I wouldn’t wait too long to do all your ninja jazz, though. I can’t see things too clearly, on account of the flambé problem ah previously mentioned, but one thing the omens make quite clear is that our opponent’s gonna find a few friendlies here in town if he makes it in one piece.”

Nan briskly nodded, unfolding her duel disk with a crisp ‘snap’ before stalking out of the room.

Big Shoe laughed and shook his head with mock exasperation. “Ah, I tell ya’ kid, that woman sure is a handful. Good to have watching your back, and quite strong in a duel, but a handful for sure.”

“…Yes…” The short boy with squinty eyes replied in a halted, almost robotic tone from where he sat in on the floor with his arms tightly wrapped around his knees.

“Damn.” Big Shoe shook his head again. “What a boring lad you are. Why’d you have to make the boss man tinker with your head like that? Now we can’t even have a good conversation, Samui. Mouthing off to Reggie like you did was a dumb decision. You know she reports directly to the head honcho.”

“…Sorry…” Samui Kori emotionlessly replied. Big Shoe turned back to the monitor walls with a click of his tongue, completely ignoring Samui’s finger dropping down to trace a small patch of ice on the floor absentmindedly with the edge of the digit.

“Don’t you ‘sorry’ me boy! I’ll throw ya’ out the window! I will eat your damn cards!”